Finding Home
by AneRiam
Summary: Little Harry Potter was taken to the Dursleys on Halloween night and remembered by all as the Boy-Who-Lived. Forgotten were the other three Potter children who had been whisked away and hidden that same night. For years they were separated, until they enter a world filled with magic, and impossibilities, and discover the family they had always longed for. AU
1. Prologue

Little Harry Potter was taken to the Dursleys on Halloween night and remembered by all as the Boy-Who-Lived. Forgotten were the other three Potter children who had been whisked away and hidden that same night. For years they were separated, until the summer of their eleventh birthday. Where they enter a world filled with magic, and impossibilities, and discover the family they had always longed for. Together they start a journey filled with adventure and unimaginable wonders as they work together to find, between themselves, a loving family- and a welcomed home.

Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling and Warner Bros. I only lay claim to my OCs (Harry's siblings and any other OC I create).

* * *

 _I may not always be with you but when we're far apart remember,_ _you will be with me, right inside my heart._

\- Marc Wambolt -

 _I don't care if we have our house, or a cliff ledge, or a cardboard box._ _Home is wherever we all are, together._

\- James Patterson -

* * *

 _ **Prologue**_ \- _**Torn Apart**_

 _"And I don't suppose you're going to tell me_ why _you're here, of all places?"_

 _"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."_

 _"You don't mean - you_ can't _mean the people who live_ here _?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"_

 _"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly._

 **\- J.K Rowling; Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone,** _ **Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall**_

Professor McGonagall stared at him before pursing her lips into a thin line and narrowing her eyes, clearly displeased.

"Why? Why is it the best place for him? Why does he need to come to them? Certainly there are respectable families in the Wizarding world that can keep him safe. Even I have a claim to raise him Albus. With no other Potters it falls to me to teach him about his family, him _and_ his siblings Albus."

"Minerva dear, I know it hurts to lose James and Lily but we can't take the risk of the Ministry trying to take him or the other children from you."

"Take them from me? _Take them from me!_ They will have no right to do so Albus! Fleamont was my cousin- I was born a Fleamont if I should remind you Albus! Euphemia was my dearest friend! I was James Godmother for crying out loud! I have more claim on the children than any other witch or wizard! You shouldn't even have to give them to these muggles they should be raised by me Albus!" Professor McGonagall whispered furiously.

Dumbledore gave her a sad smile, "But you are not the children's Godmother Minerva Dear, nor are you a Potter by blood. Your connection to the late Fleamont Potter is through his grandmother's side if I should remind you, which can- and will- be contested by the Purebloods of the Wizengamot. Which you know we cannot risk, not if we want to keep them from the dark families," he stared at her silently until she glanced away in anger and acknowledgement.

Dumbledore gave a sad sigh, "Also, with Lily Potter's sacrifice only his mother's blood will be able to protect him. Petunia is his mother's sister, therefore the closest to her blood," he replied.

Professor McGonagall turned back to him, looking unconvinced, "Well what about the other children? They are his family too- certainly more than these muggles!" she pointed at number four, "They all carry their mother's blood. Why can't we put them all together with a wizarding family, or with _me_ Albus, with your political clout we can make sure the children are given to me, and if its about blood then with each other they'll be safe there too!"

Dumbledore shook his head before looking at Professor McGonagall, "Minerva, dear, they are not safe anywhere in the wizarding world. It's too easy for Voldemort's-" Professor McGonagall shivered slightly "- followers to navigate. In the muggle world it'll be harder for any malevolent pureblood to find them," he replied.

Professor McGonagall bristled slightly before standing straighter, crossing her arms and lifting her chin, her cheeks red in furry. Her voice was clipped as she answered back.

"And what about the other children then Albus? Certainly you do not believe that the Dursleys will take them all in with open hearts do you?"

Dumbledore sighed wearily as he looked up into the sky, his eyes darting as they searched for something in the horizon.

"Alas, we will need to separate them as well. They will not be safe if by coincidence one of them is found and they are all together. Each one in a different muggle orphanage will be the most practical."

Professor McGonagall spluttered "Orphanage Albus?! Lily and James' children in an Orphanage! A _Potter_ in a Orphanage?! That's almost as bad as leaving poor Harry with these horrid muggles!"

"Minerva dear-"

"You can't do that Albus!"

"Minerva!"

Professor McGonagall, shocked, silenced herself. She had never been spoken to like that by Albus Dumbledore before.

Dumbledore sighed as he turned to look at her in the eye. The usual twinkle in his blue eyes nonexistent.

"I must Minerva dear, for their own safety. The Potter name will be known as the vanquisher of Voldemort and therefore, in our world, they will be in constant danger."

Professor McGonagall looked up to the darkened windows of number four, the wrinkles in her face becoming much more prominent.

"But unaware of each other, of their heritage, Albus?" she whispered.

"Separate they will be safe and away from the fame. They will be able to live normal childhoods," he turned back towards the sky as a dark speck became noticeable in the horizon, "I have thought through all the options you have given me already, believe me, but I believe this is the only way to keep the children safe- even if it hurts me to separate them from their family and their birthright," he sighed wearily, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, "Hopefully the other children will be adopted soon and will live in happy families, just like Harry. This is the only gift we can give them for all that they have already sacrificed for us, for our world."

Professor McGonagall stared at him, something in her expression changing, before she turned to the speck as well, the sound of a rumbling motor starting to fill the air. They watched as the speck grew larger and the sound became louder until a flying motorcycle came into view. It parked right in front of number four and a huge form of a man climbed off. He stood almost twice as tall as a normal man and five times as wide. With wild, untamed, hair and beard, and beady black eyes. From within the side car, which held a basket, he picked up a small little form bundled up with blankets. As he walked up to Dumbledore you could notice the tears glistening in his eyes.

Dumebledore smiled up at him as he came closer, "Hagrid," he said relieved "Glad you made it. Did you have any trouble?"

Hagrid sniffled, passing the child to Dumbledore as he reached out for the red bundle.

"No Professor Dumbledore sir. Got the motorcycle from young Sirius an' used it to bring the children over 'ere. Children were no problem sir. They fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."

"Excellent, good job Hagrid," Dumbledore whispered as he looked down upon the child.

Professor McGonagall, who had been silent, moved forward and peered down at the child as well. It was a boy, with untamed black hair and pale skin, dark lips and high cheek bones. He was a beautiful child but that was not what gathered their attention and had them staring. It was the swollen scar on his forehead, in the form of a lightning bolt.

Pointing at it Professor McGonagall whispered, "Is that where-?"

"Yes that is where the curse hit him." Dumbledore responded.

Hagrid, upon hearing that, cried out. His sobs filling the air.

" _Hush_ Hagrid! You'll wake up the muggles!" Proffessor McGonagall whispered before turning back to look at the scar "Can't you do something about it Albus?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy, Minerva dear. I have one on my left knee, a map of underground London, and it has helped me immensely," he replied, moving towards the door.

"Sadly he'll have that scar forever. And it will mark him as Harry Potter."

The other two watched as he placed the boy on the doorstep and tucked a letter into the blankets. Hagrid's shoulders shook as Professor McGonagall swallowed the lump in her throat. They stood, unmoving, until Dumbledore came back, his eyes dull.

"Poor little 'Arry. James an' Lily dead- an' livin' withou' his siblings." Hagrid cried.

"There Hagrid," Dumbledore patted his arm. "Yes it is sad but we are still not done. Where are the other children Hagrid?"

Clearing his throat Hagrid turned back towards the motorcycle, peering down at the basket inside the side car.

"Right 'ere Professor Dumbledore sir," he whispered.

Dumbledore moved forward, McGonagall behind him, as they looked down upon the small forms inside the basket. A baby boy, bundled into a blue blanket, and two little girls with a pink and purple blanket respectively. They moved restlessly, the little one in purple reaching over to the empty space beside her and whimpering when her hands touched nothing. She peered up at them, emerald green shining in the night, before she closed her eyes tightly and twisted towards the other child beside her, grabbing onto his blue blanket.

McGonagall reached down to stroke her black hair, "Shh there, there. What's wrong with them Albus?" she questioned.

Dumbledore picked up the other little girl, the one in pink, and stared down at her before responding, "It seems that they feel their nearing separation. Siblings such as themselves have a strong bond and they must be feeling within themselves their coming departures. A shame that their separation might cost them this bond, it is truly a wonderful thing."

McGonagall looked up at him at that, uncertain, "Are you _sure_ about this Albus?" she asked as she picked up the girl in purple, the children's cries intensifying. Turning towards number Four she could see even little Harry fussing on the doorstep.

"Potters, unaware of their family, of their history? It's unheard of. Fleamont and Euphemia would be rolling in their graves, ashamed that I'm even allowing this to happen, not to mention how James and Lily must be feeling," She whispered looking down onto the little girl in her arms with the Potter chin and nose, so much like James'.

"This is the only way they can be safe Minerva any contact with the wizarding world before Hogwarts can bring them danger. This is the best option for them," Dumbledore responded.

McGonagall nodded slowly, her expression saddened as she looked down onto the child.

"Very well," she whispered, "for their safety," she leaned down to kiss the brow of the girl fussing in her arms.

Dumbledore nodded before taking out three more envelopes from within his robes, passing one over to McGonagall and then Hagrid.

"We must go now, staying here any longer isn't safe. On the envelope is the orphanage you should take them to and inside are their birth certificates, leave it with them when you drop them off." he hesitated as he looked at each one of the children slowly, "Take care of them," he whispered, "And let us hope that they grow happy and loved in absence of losing their parents and each other."

McGonagall nodded briskly as she accepted the envelope and held the child tighter. Hagrid got onto the motorcycle and nodded as he looked at the little boy left inside the basket, "Ye' sir," he whispered, tears in his eyes. They stood there, for a while, in silence as if unwilling to continue their plan. But then McGonagall stepped away and with a spin on her heel and a ' _pop_ ' she vanished. Hagrid followed her, revving the engine and- with a salute to Dumbledore- flying up into the sky, becoming nothing more then a speck.

Watching them leave Dumbledore walked down the street before stopping. Returning the lights to their lamppost he looked down at the child in his arms as she slept. Her brow furrowed and tears running down her cheeks as she silently wept, feeling the absence of her siblings. Dumbledore sighed.

"Good luck Mister and Misses Potter," he whispered.

He looked down the street to number Four where he could see the bundle in the doorstep fussing restlessly, feeling the impending departure of its last sibling. Dumbledore smiled sadly.

"Good luck Harry."

And with a swish of his robes and a _'pop'_ he was also gone. And only one Potter was left on the doorstep of Number four Private Drive, who became still as his last sibling left. And as the night grew on only his whimpers were heard.

And all throughout England the last of the Potters were scattered, put on doorsteps with envelopes tucked into their blankets. Wizards and Witches celebrated and rejoiced as the last of the family who saved them were separated- and eventually all but one was forgotten- children who no longer possessed anything except the envelope with their name and the bond that they shared. The bond that held them together, and grew when they needed their family the most-

 _Hardwin James Potter,_

 _Jonathan Fleamont Potter,_

 _Camellia_ _Iolanthe Potter,_

 _Rosalyn Euphemia Potter-_

The Potters wouldn't see each other for many, _many_ , years- not until the summer of their eleventh birthday, ten years from now. And until that time they were separated, but they were never alone. Because they knew they had each other. Deep down inside their hearts, and within their dreams.

* * *

 **A/N:** I am really into Harry Potter and I have been tweaking with different ideas for a while now. I ended up deciding on posting this idea. Most of my ideas have to do with Harry having siblings or some type of family- because I really want a Harry who has family (in most cases a big family). The Weasleys and Hermione try and are wonderful to him but I get the sense that he never fully fit, not completely. And Sirius and Remus are amazing and probably would have filled the role of fathers or uncles that Harry needed, would have been his family if given the chance (because Harry was _everything_ to them, he was their focus, unlike the Weasleys who had their own children- or their siblings- and Hermione who had her parents) but they die too soon for my taste (which is that they don't die of old age, which for me is unacceptable because I love them both and didn't want them to die in the books at all *hint on what's _not_ going to happen to them in this story*).

So the Potter siblings are Quadruplets if that wasn't obvious (if it sounds cliche or too unlikely and you don't like it then I guess this isn't the story for you) and this isn't going to be a WBWL story Harry _is_ the BWL, not any of his siblings (he was born at the end of July 31st and they were born at the beginning of August 1st for those of you who want to know so there isn't even the remote possibility that any of them can be the Chosen One). I really like OCs in stories, so as a warning the story will change POV between the siblings (there might be POVs of other canon characters but they are few) meaning that the POV of the story will be 3/4 from the perspective of an OC.

If you recognize some of the dialogue or descriptions of characters (like Hagrid) then they came from _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_ , Chapter One: _The Boy Who Lived._

Thank you for reading and please review, let me know how I did.

 _~ Aneriam_


	2. Chapter 1

**One:** _As We Close Our Eyes_

* * *

 _You know that place between sleep and awake, that place where you can still remember dreaming?_ _That's where I'll always love you. That's where I'll be waiting._

\- Jeremy Sumpter, _Peter Pan_

* * *

 **June 23, 1991**

 **(10 years later )**

 _"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine._

 _You make me happy when skies are grey._

 _You'll never know dear how much I love you._

 _Please don't take my sunshine away~"_

 _There was giggles and a flash of red hair, as bright as a raging fire, as he watched a woman twirl with two children in her arms._

 _"Mum sin' pwetty!"_

 _Choruses of "Pwetty! Pwetty!" followed and the woman laughed, her voice like a chorus of bells._

 _"Thank you my little precious children."_

 _He looked up as the man holding him laughed. The man had a nice laugh, mischievous and full of life, and had hair as black and messy as his own, with glasses that seemed to be sliding down his nose. The man set him down on a mat by the couch with another child. Crawling towards the child- a girl- he took a lock of her hair and lied down beside her. They watched as the man joined the woman, took one of the children- a boy- into his arms, and danced with him._

 _"Of course your mother would sing pretty, she's a goddess."_

 _The man tickled the boy in his arms, making him squeal, and the woman turned to the man. Kissing him on the lips she laughed- "Oh darling, always a charmer"- she walked towards them, the man behind her, and the remaining two children were put down on the mat, laying down and curling up beside him and the girl._

 _He became drowsy as he played with the girl's dark hair and as he looked into familiar green eyes he smiled. He heard as the woman and man sat at either side of the mat and he closed his eyes, content, as he felt the woman run her fingers through his hair. And when the man started to hum the woman resumed her singing._

 _"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine._

 _You make me happy when skies are grey._

 _You'll never know dear how much I love you._

 _Please don't take my sunshine away~"_

 _Slowly they all fell asleep with her voice, but through the blurry haze of his subconscious he heard the woman start to hum along with the man. And he felt her lean in, as her humming grew softer, and heard her give each one of them a kiss._

 _"Sweet dreams my adorable little Cami,"_

Knock. Knock.

 _"My darling Jon,"_

"Get up boy!"

 _"My beautiful Rose,"_

Knock!

 _"And my precious Harry."_

"Up, _UP_!"

 _"Daddy loves you."_

"Get up you lazy boy!"

 _"Mummy loves you."_

KNOCK!

 **. . .**

Harry Potter woke up with a start. The details of the dream already slipping away.

"Are you up yet?!"

He looked towards the door of his small room as he quickly shot out of his bed.

"Yes Aunt Petunia."

He quickly shuffled towards the door as he straightened the bird's nest on his head. Opening it he looked up into the horse-like face of his aunt. Her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed as she looked down on him, sniffing disdainfully when she had sight of him.

"Very well hurry up boy, I don't have all day. Come down into the kitchen and make breakfast. Don't you dare burn anything do you understand me? It's Dudley's big day and I won't have you ruin it."

He followed after her into the hall, "Yes Aunt Petunia."

She turned around and glared at him, as if she didn't believe him and was trying to scare him into submission, before lifting her chin and scrunching her nose as if he was a dirty piece of trash that she wished to get rid of.

She turned around abruptly and went down the stairs "Go wash up!" She screeched back at him, "You have five minutes!"

He quickly sprinted into his room and grabbed his clothes, which he had put out the day before, and ran into the restroom to take his shower. After a quick three minute shower- he learned from a young age to never take too long, he'd waste water and people like him didn't deserve to use that much water- he dressed and brushed his teeth. Looking into the mirror he tried to tame his hair, but like always it would never stay still. He sighed, exasperated and distracted, the dream- what he could remember of it- still replaying inside his head.

Every night he had one of two types of dreams. Either he dreamed of the flash of green light, a maniacal laughter, and a blood chilling scream, or he had the other dreams- the more frequent ones- where he dreamed of laughter and warmth, and of the family he never had. He wondered sometimes, after he had those dreams, how it would have felt like to grow up in a warm home and feel loved everyday of his life. With a mother that would sing him to sleep and a father that would play with him all day. And siblings, how much he wanted siblings. So that everyday they could play together, and fight together, or annoy each other, and ignore each other. Siblings that would be with him- right next to him- through every accomplishment, every failure.

He wondered sometimes if these dreams were really memories, if what he dreamed actually happened once. He didn't know much of his parents- he didn't even have pictures- and he knew even less if he had had any siblings, his aunt never told him anything. She actually forbid the mention of his parents in her house. When he was younger he had made the mistake of asking her about them. She had slapped him and hissed out at him, "Don't ask questions, _ever."_ That was the main rule in the Dursley household, if you wanted a peaceful life, and Harry had learned it quickly. He also learned almost as quickly to never believe a word his aunt said, when he was younger she had told him that his parents were good-for-nothing drunks that had gotten themselves killed in a car crash and had dumped him on them. He knew it was a lie though, deep in his heart.

He knew that his parents had to have been great, something deep inside him told him that they were. But sometimes, especially after these dreams, he wished he had someone who could tell him everything about his family. Looking into the mirror now he starred at his unkempt black hair and bright green eyes- that seemed to be hidden behind his big black-rimmed glasses- his small nose and narrow chin. He starred at his pale skin- even after all his time out in the sun from his daily chores- and high cheekbones. You could say he looked aristocratic, he knew that many of the woman and girls in the neighborhood said that he looked handsome, and that he would grow even more so.

He always wondered who he actually looked like (even though he leaned towards the neighbors belief that he took after his father since he hardly saw any similarities between himself and his Aunt. And not to disregard his mum, but Aunt Petunia hardly looked like Aristocrat material and she was related to his mum, so they had to look somewhat similar). Although, he always wondered, if those dreams actually were real, if that's how his parents had looked. Did he really have his father's hair? And if he did then what would he have from his mother? (and he always wondered how she was related to Aunt Petunia, he didn't remember details much but he did remember her vibrant hair and he knew, deep down, that she was beautiful). But after these dreams what he did the most was fantasize.

He fantasized about sisters with his mother's red hair, and brothers with his eyes and his father's laugh. He wished and dreamed- and when he was smaller he'd cry himself to sleep- on a family with his smile, and his eyes, and his knobbly knees. A dream that always seemed to fill him with so much warmth, that sometimes he felt like he could explode. But other times- when he had one of his harsher punishments, or was ridiculed constantly- he felt like that warmth was the only thing that kept him going. It was depressing, if he actually stopped to think about it, he received most of his warmth and love through a family that was just part of his imagination.

"BOY! Come down here! I said five minutes!"

Because the one he had been stuck with was anything but loving to him.

Running out of the bathroom and into his room, to throw his pajamas into the hanger and put on his shoes. He sprinted down the steps to the kitchen.

"Coming Aunt Petunia!"

Stopping just before he entered- his Aunt would kill him if she caught him running in her house- he walked quickly to the stove, passing his aunt who was seated in the kitchen table and wrapping up some last minute presents. He ignored her sneer and the glare she was boring into the back of his head as he set out the pans and brought out the food. He put the bacon and eggs to fry before starting the pancake mix. He worked diligently and quietly as his Aunt left the kitchen. He started toasting the bread as his cousin bound down the steps with neat, clean, clothing and his blond hair gelled back. He shuffled towards his seat as he rubbed his eyes- pale blue, like his mother's- and sat down with a muffled yawn.

Mumbling to Harry a sleepy 'Good morning' his cousin rested his cheek on the palm of his hand and stared at the presents around the table as Harry continued with breakfast. Bringing the plate of bacon and eggs to the table Harry gave Dudley a smile and a "Happy birthday" as he turned to finish the pancakes. Reflecting on it Harry realized that there was only one person in this family who was something other than horrible to him, and if Harry was honest with himself the only person who he actually considered family in this house was his cousin Dudley.

Sure Dudley resembled his Uncle a lot, he had his blond hair and his body structure- Dudley was overweight for his age, but nothing like his uncle. Harry liked to think that it was his influence that helped Dudley cut back on sweets and fats, and he could be downright mean and intimidating if he wanted to, but Dudley was also kind and considerate- in his own way- of Harry. He didn't see him as a 'burden to the house that should be kicked out' like his parents did, he saw Harry for what he actually was, family. He played Harry's personal bully in front of his parents but when they were alone Dudley was his cousin and his friend.

Sure it hadn't always been that way. When they were smaller Dudley had been a right nightmare, believing his parents words and following their example on how to treat Harry. It wasn't probably until they were four and Harry had received the second bedroom as his permanent sleeping place- he used to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs until a child service worker started coming almost monthly to the house, he was actually glad about that. He still remembered the darkness of the cupboard that used to be his room, the hunger pains, the chores, and the too-big-they-swallowed-him-up second hand clothes- that they got any close to learning about each other instead of believing what their aunt and uncle said.

Harry had hated Dudley, believing him to be a miniature Uncle Vernon and Dudley believed him to be a worthless freak. But it was probably Harry's nightmares that brought them together. When he was younger it was harder for him to stop his screams and when Dudley realized that he dreamed about what could possibly be his parents' deaths he was horrified- after all Dudley's parents were his life and he couldn't imagine what it would feel like to not have them, or dream about when they died- and in a confusing turn of events Dudley had tried to make him feel better. And somehow, slowly and awkwardly at first, they bonded, like only children could. So every night since that night, whenever Harry had nightmares, Dudley would lead him back to his room and they would play games, watch shows on Dudley's T.V, and as they got older and started to see each other as cousins, friends even, Dudley would give Harry all of his books and educational games.

Dudley thought they were boring but he knew how much Harry liked them, he would also give Harry some of his other brand new games during his birthday and Christmas, as the presents that Harry never got. He was still sometimes rude and spoiled, and liked to throw a temper when he didn't get what he wanted, and when he really wanted something he liked to boss people around. But he was loads better then what he used to be, and he protected Harry as much as he could from his aunt Aunt, Uncle, and the other bullies in the neighborhood- many of which were Dudley's 'friends'. When Harry asked him once why he would go against what his parents would have wanted, which was to make Harry miserable, Dudley had shrugged.

"You're too small and weak to take care of yourself so someone else has to" he responded, "besides you're family. That's got to count for something right?"

Harry hadn't been able to stop smiling the whole day after that, nor any time that he remembered it. It was the first time Dudley had actually called him family after all.

In fact as he put the plate of pancakes on the table he realized he had started smiling again. Dudley looked at him suspiciously, his eyes darting between Harry and the pancakes.

"What's got you so happy?" he asked as Harry turned to take out the toast and cut up Aunt Petunia's fruit.

Harry looked at him over his shoulder with a quirk of his lips that was- if anyone who knew and had been there would have surely stated- similar to that of his father's.

"Nothing, I'm just happy for you," Harry responded, "It's your big day after all. You're eleven now, _Dudleykins._ "

"Don't call me that," Dudley grumbled as they heard Uncle Vernon come down the stairs.

Harry snickered as Uncle Vernon came into the kitchen, followed by Aunt Petunia. Uncle Vernon glared at him before giving Dudley a pat on the back as Aunt Petunia showered Dudley in kisses. They sat down at the table as Harry served the last of the breakfast. Taking his piece of toast, his small portion of eggs, and his piece of bacon, Harry sat between Dudley and Aunt Petunia. Ignoring the adults as they fawned over Dudley.

"Have you seen your presents yet Dudley?" Aunt Petunia cooed, "You got thirty-six this year."

"Thirty-six?" Dudley asked as he looked up from his breakfast, "That's good, thanks mum."

His voice wasn't one of anger or disappointment but it wasn't excited either. It was casual actually, almost uncaring, (and it was, Dudley didn't care much of the size of his presents. Didn't care if they were more than last year or not, not anymore at least) and it got Aunt Petunia nervous, fretful. She cared, she wanted to spoil her boy, have him show excitement and anticipation, and if he wasn't excited about the pile he had she became nervous because she made herself believe that he was unsatisfied and that was a no-no for Aunt Petunia. She wanted her boy to be the happiest boy on earth (and if it got the little urchin she was stuck with jealous and unhappy all the better in her eyes) and so she always tried her hardest to make him "happy".

"Yes, yes, your welcome Dudleykins," she wrung her hands and bit her lip as she turned to stare fearfully at her husband, who just shrugged his shoulders, before having her eyes roam the present pile, "Oh look! I forgot Aunt Marge's present. Silly me," Aunt Petunia replied, flustered.

"Thirty-seven then," Dudley replied, "Okay that's almost as much as last year right? Thanks," he said nodding absentmindedly, distracted by the food on his plate.

Harry thought Aunt Petunia was going to have a heart attack, "And! We'll buy you _two_ more while we're out, how's that Popkin? _Two_ more presents," she exclaimed.

Dudley turned to her in confusion, "That would be-"

"Thirty-nine sweetums."

"Alright," Dudley said slowly, looking closely at Aunt Petunia, "Thirty-nine, one more than last year, all right then," he smiled before shooting Harry a confused look, but Harry just shrugged and tried to hide his snickers.

Uncle Vernon chuckled, "Little tyke wants to get his money's worth, 'Atta boy, Dudley!" he ruffled Dudley's hair as said boy turned his confused look towards him.

Aunt Petunia smiled and clapped, as if happy that she got to spoil her son rotten into a brat of a boy. Harry tried not to roll his eyes at her as everyone resumed eating.

Just as Aunt Petunia finished her fruit the phone rang, "I'll get it," she said, leaving her seat.

Harry finished eating when she came back, her expression sour.

"Bad news Vernon," she said as she stopped by the doorway, "Old Mrs. Figg just called, she broke her leg and can't take him today," she spat, jerking her head towards Harry.

Harry turned to stare at Dudley who gave him a conspiratorial wink. Harry just shook his head. Every year the Dursleys took Dudley and one friend to an amusement park, theater, or popular burger joint for his birthday. When Harry was younger he would be left behind with Mrs. Figg, the old lady down the street who had twenty cats and whose house smelled like cabbage.

But ever since his seventh birthday Dudley had tried to make excuse or made things happen to Mrs. Figg so Harry could go too. Sometimes he failed and resorted to bringing Harry something from wherever they went but most of the time he got Harry to come along too. Not that Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon liked it- or knew.

"What? Well what about your friend? What's her name...Yvonne?"

"On vacation."

"How about Marge?"

"Don't be silly Vernon she hates the boy!"

"Well, what if we leave him here?"

"NO!" Dudley cried out before composing himself when his parents turned to him in surprise, "Uhh...what if he does something to my presents?"

"Don't you worry Dudleykins he won't do anything," Aunt Petunia cooed, she turned back to Uncle Vernon, "and let him destroy the house?"

Harry always found it funny that they talked about him like he wasn't there or he couldn't understand.

"Well..." Uncle Vernon replied, trying to think of a solution.

"We could take him..." Aunt Petunia responded, her face scrunching up and her eyes narrowed at him. As if it was his fault this was happening, which it wasn't it was Dudley's, "...and we could leave him in the car."

"That car is brand new, he's not ruining it!"

Aunt Petunia huffed, "Well I suppose he'll have to go then," she walked towards Dudley and wrapped her arms around him, "I'm so sorry sweetums, but I'll make sure he doesn't ruin your big day alright?" she cooed.

Dudley winked at Harry under her arm before responding in a glum voice, "It's alright mum."

"Oh, you're such a good boy Dudders!" She gave him a big kiss on the cheek, "Mommy loves you. I'm going to finish getting ready alright? Your nice friend will be here any minute. Vernon, honey, you should change your shoes we'll be doing a lot of walking."

Uncle Vernon grunted in acknowledgment and glared at him before following Aunt Petunia up the stairs. Harry turned to Dudley, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

"What did you do?" he asked.

Dudley shrugged, trying to look innocent, which was ruined by the big grin on his face "Mrs. Figg might have _accidentally_ tripped over one of her million cats," he said shoving the plate of pancakes and bacon towards Harry.

Harry laughed as he piled as much as he could on his plate before his relatives came back down the steps.

"Thanks Dudley," he said, finishing the food and taking the plates to the sink.

"I do my best."

They moved towards the living room as they heard the doorbell ring.

"Oh they're here!" Aunt Petunia cried as she came running down the steps.

She greeted Mrs. Polkins as Pierce Polkins, Dudley's best friend, walked inside and started to talk to Dudley. Harry stood by the door, just watching, until Mrs. Polkins noticed him. She smiled as she came towards him.

"Good morning Harry."

Harry smiled up at her, "Good morning Mrs. Polkins. How are you today?" he asked politely. He noticed his Aunt's face go sour as she stood behind Mrs. Polkins. Harry hid a smirk.

Ever since the child service worker came when he was four his Aunt realized that how she was treating him could get her in trouble. She also realized that giving Harry a bad image towards the rest of the neighborhood gave her family a bad image. After all, if she continued to spout that he was a liar, cheat, and thief, what would it say about her ability to raise a child? Harry had been with her since he was one after all, if he learned any of that it would be in her house, with her family. And if she kept giving him Dudley's old clothes what would it say about their financial status?

So she gave Harry the smaller bedroom, to stop the inquiring of the service worker of where he slept, fed him all three meals, though in portions smaller then he should have at his age, and dressed him in second hand clothes that could fit him and weren't threadbare, to stop the inquiring of the neighbors. She still gave him chores and stuffed him in the cupboard or let Uncle Vernon give him a few beatings- which were rare but not nonexistent- if he did something really bad, but mostly Harry was left alone.

When he was smaller Harry had used his free time to go to the library but as he grew older he did chores around the neighborhood for some change, he didn't get an allowance after all, and little by little he started to become the favorite of the adults around the neighborhood. They called him a 'polite, smart, young man' and a 'sweet little boy'. They dotted on him whenever they could, giving him cookies or lemonade or brownies as he mowed their lawns or painted their fences. Harry realized a long time ago that his status as an orphan appealed to their parental instincts as well.

He had some friends in the children around the neighborhood but they weren't close friends. His looks and nice personality had the other children always wanting to play with him (different from how it used to be in his childhood) and Harry used that to the fullest, especially against the bullies, when Dudley couldn't protect him, who wouldn't want to go against someone so popular among their own peers and adored by the adults. Because the adults adored him and Harry always used that to his advantage.

Aunt Petunia hated it, of course, she acted like she was proud of him and bragged to all that would listen that it was her influence that had made Harry the boy he was today, but she always fumed inside of herself. She didn't fool Harry, he knew she wished she could have the whole neighborhood against him, make his life miserable all ways possible, but most of all she was probably angered that it wasn't her Dudley who received praise from the neighbors. She always grew angry when he received favor from the neighbors. She hid it but whenever she saw it her face always became pinched, like right now, as she stood behind Mrs. Polkins who beamed down at him.

"I'm very well, thank you for asking Harry. I hear you're going to the zoo, are you excited?"

Harry gave her his best shy smile, he ducked his head and scuffed his shoe against the floor, "Yes, I'm very excited it's my first time, I've always been sick before," he answered, he learned a long time ago how to play the adults affections to his advantage.

"Well you're going to enjoy it I'm sure." Mrs. Polkins paused as she shuffled through her purse, "It'll be your birthday soon right Harry?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am, July 31st."

"Yes well, we won't be here at that time so I wanted to give you an early birthday present," she said, handing him 10 pounds.

Harry stared at the money, "Wow, thanks Mrs. Polkins!"

Mrs. Polkins just laughed and ruffled his hair, "Enjoy yourself alright Harry?" She started towards the door, "Goodbye Petunia thank you for taking Pierce. Bye sweetie have fun!" and she was out the door.

Aunt Petunia waved her out as she stood by the doorway, "Goodbye Jane! Thank you for letting Pierce come!" she waved until Mrs. Polkins disappeared down the street, her hand stiff and her smile strained.

Once Mrs. Polkins was gone she turned back to Harry, snarling at him and the pound in his hand. Harry quickly stuffed the pounds into the pocket of his jeans and tilted his chin forward, his face blank in silent defiance. His aunt's snarl seemed to grow wider. He glanced quickly to the side, where Dudley and Pierce stood talking, and she followed his gaze. She glanced back at him and her snarl turned into tightly pressed lips and fluttering nostrils.

He gave her a small smile, she understood what he was trying to say- she so much as touched his money and he'd make a racket. And if there was one thing Pierce was good at it was not being able to keep his mouth shut. Mrs. Polkins would know by tomorrow if Aunt Petunia had tried to grab his birthday money.

Aunt Petunia fumed silently before stomping over to him. Grabbing the scruff of his shirt she pulled him out the door and towards the car.

"You behave yourself you hear me boy? One little step out of line and you'll be in that cupboard until Christmas!" She spat at him before letting go of his shirt and going around to her side of the car, Uncle Vernon and the boys coming out the door.

Harry just slid into the car beside Dudley, unconcerned of the threat. Sharing a smile with his cousin he settled back into the seat and stared out the window. For some reason he felt that today would be the start of something special. He could feel it in his bones, taste it in the air, it seemed like his heart was beating in anticipation of what was to come. Harry didn't know what it was but he couldn't wait for it, he just knew it would be something amazing, he could _feel_ it.

He wouldn't know until weeks later how right he was. It would be amazing, and heart-stopping, and earth-shattering.

His dream was just about to come true.

* * *

 **June 30, 1991**

Rose hated St. Mary Children's Home. She hated it with a passion. It was stifling, and boring, and strict, and everything had to be done a certain way at a certain time and - _ugh! -_ sometimes, when she was tired of all the rules and the mindlessness of everyday life, Rose wished the earth could swallow her whole.

"Rose, come on, it's breakfast we're supposed to be down at the Eating Hall by now!"

Rose looked at her long black hair- that fell in loose curls down her back- and pale skin, big green eyes, high cheekbones, and small nose, as she straightened the tie on her school uniform. Checking to see that her appearance was satisfactory before leaving the room, she had a reputation to keep after all.

"I'm going, I'm going."

When she was satisfied she turned towards her roommate, Maddie, and walked up to her at the doorway, picking up her bag along the way. Stopping beside her Rose folded her arms and cocked her hip, jerking her head out to the hall.

"There, I'm done, weren't you in a hurry?"

Maddie just huffed and rolled her eyes as she stomped out of the room and into the hallway. Passing the other rooms where uniformed girls of all ages were rushing down the steps in a hurry, late to breakfast.

"I don't even know why I wait for you," Maddie muttered.

Rose just smiled as she followed after her into the pristine halls of the orphanage and down into the extensive dining hall. The room already filled as the last of the tardy children, like Rose and Maddie, hurriedly came down. Their relief palpable when they realized that the adults weren't there yet.

St. Mary's was a top of the notch Orphanage, one of those lucky ones with a rich sponsor. So the children all had the necessities they needed and some little extravagances. The matron of _'this wonderful institution'_ , Mrs. Miller- a fifty something old _hag_ that had nothing better to do then parade around like a Queen- ruled with an iron fist.

She stated that St. Mary's had to represent its sponsor so therefore they had to look the best to the rest of the world. The children all had enough food- not that it was good, the expensive, delicious, food was for the hag only- enough rooms to be in pairs- and still have some rooms extra- tuition paid to a good private school in the city- St. Mary's children had to prove that even as orphans they could become something in the world and a good education was given to them to start them up- and enough rules to drown them in their metaphorical chains. Mrs. Miller said that it was to teach them discipline and help them prepare for the real world, but Rose thought it was a bloody lie- who needed to bow to the stupid cow before every meal anyways?

Rose moved away from Maddie as they went to sit at separate tables, quickly settling into her seat with the last of the children to arrive just as Mrs. Miller, and the other adults who helped her run the orphanage, came in, the doors closing behind them. Rose tried not to scrunch her face as all of the children- including her- stood when Mrs. Miller came in, bowing to her as she stood at the table and sitting down after she did.

The one thing St. Mary was probably good for was teaching you how to use subtlety and manipulations to get whatever you wanted in life. The orphanage was a monarchy, with Mrs. Miller's Favorites at the top and ruling the whole thing. You needed to pick and choose the way you acted, what you said, and what you did, in front of certain people. Every child participated, one way or another.

It was needed of course, since some of the children in St. Mary's were heirs of corporations or Lordships, children who had no family left and were therefore placed here by the government to protect them from being used by enemies or opportunists. They, therefore, had to acquire the skills needed to assume control of their inheritances, St. Mary, therefore, became their stepping stone, their guide, and their playground.

In the orphanage's hierarchy some became one of the Favorites, railing the other kids behind them- offering them protection from the other favorites and Mrs. Miller- and creating a whole network of spies and followers who answered to their every beck and call.

Others became one of the Followers, using the Favorite's position to rise up the ranks, or for protection as they tried to live normally. Being a Follower was like being in a little group, or cult, with ranks and prestige within them that could allow you some free reign within the little group. And some were always trying to achieve the highest rank.

But most stayed out of the way, preferring to leave most of the heavy politicking, subtleties, and fights for high ranks to the the Followers who cared as they tried to live as normally as possible. Happy with whatever rank they possessed.

Others, of course, worked on their own.

It was the way of life in here, there was rules within the rules- written and unspoken- on who did what, and who controlled where, and how much power someone had, and who you had to be wary of and who to ignore. And if you didn't participate- didn't follow the rules- one way or another, you died in this place. Everyone learned eventually, from the kids who grew up here as babies or toddlers, to those who came in later, older. Everybody had a position and played the game to the best of their abilities.

Even Rose, she wasn't a Follower or a Favorite (although she used to be a Favorite, long ago, when she actually cared. She had been one of the best and even to this day the prestige she had accumulated followed her) but she did participate in the game when she wanted to, she was more of a free agent. The mercenary you hired to do your dirty work. She picked when she wanted to ally herself to someone and for what, and she had enough dirt on everyone in the orphanage to be left alone and the respect she had commanded in the old days hadn't diminished. Plus, she had her own rank in the little monarchy and in some ways it was better than being a Favorite. She was a neutral in Mrs. Miller's eyes but she was one of the few children to have lived the longest in the orphanage and that gathered her as much power as a Favorite. She'd been here since she was one after all, ten years, she knew the game better than almost anyone.

There were only a few kids who had been here as long as her- nine in total, including her- most of the kids since back then had been adopted or had grown old enough to leave a long time ago (very few ever lasted here long enough to leave at eighteen, the prestige of St. Mary's had many children of all ages taken in by the rich and powerful, from all over the world, and even if one wasn't adopted out of St. Mary they usually went to become famous or powerful themselves, the reputation of the orphanage opening doors for them that would have been closed otherwise)- those who were left, who had lived here longer than the majority of the other children, were considered the 'older generation', or Elders, they were all mostly free agents as well.

"Pass me the butter will you?"

Rose looked up from her meal to see thirteen year old Darren staring at her. She glanced at the dish beside her before passing it across the table.

He mumbled a thanks before resuming his eating, buttering up his toast with deliberate slowness before clicking the knife against the plate three times softly. The table- known as the Elders' table by the rest of the orphans- was usually quiet, the children here had passed so many years in the orphanage that they usually became a little jaded, a little tired, of the double words and snide comments that were usually passed around in the other tables. They usually sat together to avoid that, to separate themselves from the plotting and planning, for some peace and quiet. Not that they didn't sometimes participate in the action, of course.

Therefore with the ringing of the knife moving across the table the silence that usually settled on them became much more defining, every single person (nine in all) becoming aware of the conversation about to take place. They continued their actions, rousing no suspicion from those around them, but their attention was placed solely in the boy with the buttered knife.

Setting the knife down Darren took a bite of his toast, keeping his eyes on his plate, and with deliberate casualness gave out the information he had acquired.

"Stephanie, apparently, is in the process of being adopted. It's not official, so it hasn't been announced yet, but Mrs. Miller is glowing. Apparently the prospective parents are important political figures and she's positive that they'll sign the papers," he stated, as if he was talking about the weather.

Sixteen year old Annabelle scoffed, as she cut up her sausage, "Of course they'll sign the papers, Stephanie can charm the pants off anyone, what's your point?"

"His point is that Stephanie is a Favorite, one of the most prominent, if she leaves there is going to be a large group of Followers left for the picking and a new position open," Fifteen year old Conner said, glancing to one of the biggest tables in the Hall where a pretty brunette sat, in the middle, talking to those around her as if she was holding court. Everyone of the children around her direct vicinity hanging on to her every word.

The others glanced to the direction of the table, which had erupted into laughter in response to something Stephanie had said, nodding silently to Conner's observation, their faces scrunching up in annoyance.

Rose, like the other Elders, liked her solitude. The Elders being the exception, of course, after living with her for years they had become more comfortable with each other than the other orphans, who came and went so quickly she hardly bothered to get to know them.

Christina- seventeen and the oldest, age wise, of the Elders (and the third oldest in the orphanage)- took a sip of her juice, lost in thought, "The other Favorites will either try to fight between each other to get the most of the abandoned Followers or there will be fighting within the group until someone takes Stephanie's spot," she mused.

Penelope, small for a thirteen year old, shuddered, "Its gonna be total war," she muttered.

Darren nodded a grim look on his face, "That it will be."

"Its always a hassle when a Favorite gets adopted," Joshua, nine and a half years old and the youngest of the Elders (both in age and in the years he had been living in the orphanage- six and a half years), muttered as he stabbed his eggs.

Rose nodded in agreement, she had never been adopted, obviously, it wasn't like she wasn't smart, or pretty, she was usually always picked by parents for interviews. But, for some reason, they always dropped her and moved onto another child by the first meeting. And even if they kept on meeting her the adoptions always fell through before the papers were officially signed. She didn't really mind anyways, every couple she ever met always felt wrong. Like she was meant to go with someone else, like they would never be family, never make her feel complete. Like she had to wait for her family. And deep down she knew it would come, she might have to wait a while but the family that would make her feel complete was coming.

Rose turned to finally look at Stephanie, noticing the smile on her face, wider than usual, and the twinkle in her eyes. Noticing how she seemed to glance to Mrs. Miller, who would send her small smiles in return, and she knew that Stephanie was as positive as Ms. Miller of her adoption. She let her eyes roam over the table, trying to see if anyone else knew of the adoption and which one of them would be the ones to pounce onto Stephanie's position the first chance they had.

She turned back to her table after her inspection, noticing that everyone else was staring at her, waiting for her comment, her verdict. She was, after all, the Elder to have lived the longest in the orphanage, ten years- months more than Darren- she had, in a small way, influence within their little group.

She met their eyes, thinking over the situation before shrugging and taking a sip of her juice, "We'll just have to make sure that the fighting doesn't cause problems and that if anyone actually manages to take Stephanie's place that they remember their place," she turned to stare at Patricia- Stephanie's second and the most likely candidate to take her position.

Feeling the table's eyes on her Patricia turned to meet Roses' stare, "And remember who, exactly, is in charge here," Rose finished louder, smiling in response to Patricia's sneer.

Patricia turned away with a huff and Stephanie, who had noticed the interaction turned to stare at Rose with narrowed eyes. Rose just smiled and raised her glass in her direction, the rest of the table following her example, ' _Congratulations'_ she mouthed, smirking at Stephanie's glance around their table. She returned Rose's mocking toast with a triumphant tilt of the head, and arrogant twist on her lips, her eyes obviously conveying how better she believed herself to be because she was being adopted and Rose wasn't. Rose just responded with a raised brow, her own arrogant tilt, a little mocking laugh, and a toss of her hair over her shoulder as she turned back to the table, conveying how little she cared for Stephanie's adoption. The rest of the table laughed at her action and she could feel Stephanie fuming and glaring, but she didn't care.

Rose, if anything, was patient. So she waited, it didn't matter that hadn't been adopted yet, that she'd been without family for ten years, she was never really alone. She knew that, deep down, and it was always reinforced at night when she dreamed about a mother, and father, and siblings, and she knew that her family was with her, even if they were part of her imagination, or her memories, to her they were real enough. So she cared very little for Stephanie's taunts, hardly let them get to her.

As they returned to their food, ignoring the holes being dug into the back of their heads after their little show of dominance, they ate in silence, the little plotting session between them finished. Letting the cacophony of the Eating Hall surround her Rose felt her mind wander. Remembering last night's dream. Remembering ringing laughs, bright green eyes, and hair like a bird's nest. Remembering a hummed lullaby that was always sitting within the recess of her mind.

 _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine._

* * *

 **A/N:** So this chapter came out almost three times longer than my first one, but once I started writing a background of Harry and his siblings lives I really couldn't stop. In fact, I had written so much for all four siblings that I had to separate it into two chapters (two siblings per chapter). Its been a while since I've updated so I decided to just give you two long chapters instead of separating it into four. I'll probably post the next chapter some time next week.

Anyways I hope you like the changes I made to Harry's home life, I always thought that some of the situations in the book about how he was raised were impractical (like how there seemed to be no one checking to see how he was being taken care of- I don't know much on how guardianship/adoption works, much less in England, but this is a fanfic anyways so if there are any impractical situations please suspend your disbelief and don't let it get to you- and how none of the neighbors questioned the obvious abuse that he was going through- even if he was a "criminal"). I also really wanted Harry to have an ally in his home and I decided that I wanted to write a fic where Dudley and Harry actually act like cousins/sort-of-brothers. I wanted to write them as the next Petunia/Lily, how Lily and Petunia could have turned out if Petunia hadn't let her jealousy get to her.

Also you officially met one of the siblings, Rose, and were able to get into her head. (If her orphanage or orphanage life is impractical please, once again, suspend your disbelief and enjoy it.) I hope you liked her character and she came out believable.

Thank you for reading and please don't be shy and review. Let me know how I'm doing.

 _~ Aneriam_


	3. Chapter 2

**Two:** _In the Dark We Remember_

 _Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away_ _and going away means forgetting ._

\- J.M Barrie, _Peter Pan_

* * *

 **July 9, 1991**

"Pass it over here!"

"Hey! I'm open! I'm open!"

"Goooooaaaal!"

"Foul! Foul! That was a foul Jon! You cheater!"

Jon laughed as he ran across the field. He came to a stop next to his grinning teammate, Kevin, and gave him a high five. Turning to the other team his smile widened and became teasing as he raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"I don't see anyone else complaining David," he said shrugging his shoulders, "So don't be a sore loser ok?" He inclined his head to the other children watching in the sidelines, most of them girls, "Wouldn't want to make a bad impression would we?"

The other boys snickered and David fumed. He opened his mouth, probably to make some smart remark, when the backdoor of the orphanage leading to the field opened. One of the younger kids, who was in charge of clean up today, came bounding down the steps.

Stopping on the last step he cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered down the small hill to the field, "Hey! Hey! Miss Carey says dinner's ready! She says to come in!"

The children all scrambled up the steps, screaming out for dinner. Jon walked in last, just catching Miss Carey's shout from the kitchen to wash their hands. He bounded up the steps, after the other boys, and did as told, changing his soiled shirt in the process. Coming down to the Mess Hall he was rewarded with the chaos that usually happened when a meal was being served. Children ran around the tables, finding their seat, talking loudly to their neighbors, as the helpers and Miss Carey went up and down the tables placing the meal and sweeping out of the way of the younger children who loved to "run underfoot" as Miss Carey liked to say.

Grinning from ear to ear on the familiarity of this scene Jon made his way over to Kevin and their roommates, Christopher, David, and Alex, the only other boys Jon's age in the orphanage. Sitting down beside Kevin he listened to their argument on the game. David, like always, being an instigator and sore loser, couldn't accept defeat. Jon rolled his eyes at David's complaints and shared an unamused look with Alex who sat in front of him, the other boys were obviously ignoring him but that didn't deter David in the slightest. Jon always believed that he liked hearing the sound of his own voice more than trying to prove his point.

"That's fascinating David, do tell me why I should care?" Christopher finally exclaimed, turning to look at David, who, sadly, sat next to him.

David looked indignant, "You were on my team Chris! They cheated, aren't you angry?!" he exclaimed.

Kevin sighed, "It was just a game, David, we'll play other ones, stop being such a sore loser about it."

"I'm not being a sore loser!"

Jon scoffed, "Really? Then why do you only complain when you lose? I don't remember you complaining last time- oh wait," he frowned in thought before leaning towards David, "that's because you won isn't it? Don't really feel the need to complain then do you? Even though I remember _you_ cheating for one of those goals," he grinned at David's rapidly reddening face.

"I- I don't-" David spluttered, " _you're_ the one who always cheats!"

Everyone on the table rolled their eyes, "David," Alex spoke up, David turned to look at him, surprised that the most quiet of them had even spoken, Alex hardly ever entered their arguments but when he did he usually had something important to say, his serious, stoic, face said that this was one of those times, "Mate, shut up."

They all laughed at David's gobsmacked face, he spluttered some more before falling quiet, leveling them all with a glare, Jon especially. Jon shook his head, already used to David's childish and petty jealousy towards him. David was a good looking boy and many girls their age in the orphanage liked him- with his blond hair and baby blue eyes- but not as much as they liked Jon.

He was the favorite, he was popular, liked by girls for his looks (his dark, perpetually messy, hair, his bright eyes, his high cheekbones and arching brows- the more romantic girls said he would grow up to look like a Prince charming) and by boys for his friendly, easygoing, attitude. Even the adults liked him a little better than most of the other kids in the orphanage (although they would never admit it) he was charming, respectful, responsible, and he heard the older girls gossip that he had beautiful eyes and a roguish, captivating, smile. David, apparently, didn't like not having the attention he believed he deserved and so he had been jealous of Jon ever since he realized the effect Jon had on everyone else, using any excuse to make Jon look bad in front of others but he was so obviously jealous of everything Jon did that no one took him seriously.

Jon never really understood his jealousy, David was popular in his own right- even with his horrible attitude girls still liked him. What Jon didn't realize was that David was jealous of how easy Jon got his popularity, he was naturally charismatic, people just seemed to flock to him. If anyone who knew his father had seen him they would've said it was the Potter charm, his father had it- James was easily popular, even with House animosity at its highest during his school career he had admirers of every House throughout his years at Hogwarts-, so did his father before him, and so on and so on. Apparently Potters had always had the natural ability to capture attention, respect, and adoration. Jon (just like his siblings) had that ability in spares. He didn't yet know this, of course, but he'd heard the adults say that he was a natural.

Digging into the meal that was placed before them the ruckus of the Mess Hall quieted down as children and young adults stuffed their faces with food. Jon, and most of the children, ate their meal quickly, hoping that today they'd be allowed to go to the carnival down the block, it would only be here for three weeks and today ended the second week, the children wanted to catch it before it left. When almost half of the children in the Hall had finished their meal people started to glance at Jon. His roommates also turned to stare at him, Kevin even nudged him with his elbow before tilting his head to the Adults' table. Jon stared at them in surprise.

"What?" he asked.

"Go on, go ask," Kevin muttered to him before tilting his head again, this time much more obvious.

"Stop that!" Jon hissed, grabbing onto the crown of Kevin's head, "Make it more obvious why don't you?" he muttered before turning to stare at Chris and Alex.

"What do you mean I have to ask? I thought Ben was going to do it," he said nodding to a dark haired, dark skinned boy sitting farther down the table with his group of friends who were also throwing glances their way. At sixteen Ben and his group were the oldest of the kids wanting to go to the carnival and therefore it fell to one of them to get permission from Miss Carey.

Chris grimaced, "Well Ben and his group got in trouble earlier today when they clogged the toilets in their hall, Miss Carey probably isn't going to allow them, or anyone, to go anywhere today. She's in a bad mood."

"Which means," Kevin interrupted as Jon started to open his mouth, "that we need to bring out the big guns," he looked at Jon imploringly.

Jon stared at him, "The big guns?" he repeated turning to his other roommates, hoping they'd be less confusing, "and that's supposed to be me?"

David scoffed, surprising Jon who had forgotten he was there, he didn't think David had it in him to be this quiet, to last this long without bringing attention to himself, "Everyone knows you're Miss Carey's favorite," he sneered, "if anyone is going to be able to convince her to allow us to go to the carnival its going to be you."

Jon stared at him in surprise before glancing across the Mess Hall noticing that almost everyone else was staring at him too. He turned back to his group to see them all giving him pleading stares (Kevin and Chris mostly, Alex just stared and David glared) before he gave out a long sigh.

"Right," he muttered scooting out of the bench, "no pressure."

Kevin laughed and clapped him on the back, "Thanks mate!"

"Fuck off," Jon muttered, pushing Kevin out of the way as he stood and walked towards the Adults' table.

He could feel a couple of the kids staring after him as he walked across the Hall and could still hear Kevin laughing, accompanied with Chris' call of "'Atta boy Johnny! You're our only hope!"

Jon glared at them over his shoulder but Kevin and Chris just gave him a thumbs up while Alex stared at him in amusement and David smirked.

 _'Shut the Bloody Hell up,'_ Jon mouthed back to them before turning around and slowing down as he neared Miss Carey and her main helpers, Cameron and Nicole, the three were so absorbed in their conversation that they hadn't noticed him yet.

Jon stopped in his tracks when he noticed the livid look on Miss Carey's face. She was usually smiling and happy, seeing her like this made a sliver of worry trail down Jon's spine, he remembered Chris' comment about Ben and the others clogging the toilets. Hardly ever seeing Miss Carey angry, and usually wary of her whenever she was, Jon found that he had no desire to get in trouble himself for getting on her bad side. Turning around to go back to his seat he realized that he had gotten the whole Hall's attention now.

They were staring at him in quiet anticipation, the younger children gave him wide pleading eyes, the girls batted their eyelashes, and the boys stared at him imploringly (begging him to take charge because he was the only one who had the chance and at the same time telling him that their respect for him would drop in their eyes if he backed down now). His friends, especially, stared at him, with Kevin even leaning across the table and clasping his hands in prayer. Overwhelmed by the stares Jon turned back around, his self preservation instincts flying out the window when he had everyone staring at him like that, like if their continued happiness rested on his shoulders.

Taking a deep breath Jon continued towards the table.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered.

Rolling his shoulders and plastering on his most charming smile he stepped up to Miss Carey and grabbed her attention, hoping that his smile and witty words were going to be enough to get through her anger.

"Miss Carey, have I told you that you look smashing today? Absolutely spiffing!"

 **. . .**

The carnival was flashing lights and bright colors against a black night, the lights appearing like multi colored stars. It was pounding chimes, and shrieks of laughter, and calls from vendors. It was wonderful, and exhilarating, and amazing, and all that Jon remembered it to be. The last time the carnival had been here he had been six and it had been otherworldly. The lights, the sounds, the colors, he felt like he had fallen through the rabbit hole and landed in a wonderland, like the book Miss Carey had been reading to them at the time. He remembered how he had closed his eyes and focused on the noise and the colors splashing against his eyelids and how he could almost pretend he felt like he was home. He didn't know what the noise, and lights, and colors had to do with home but a warmth he only ever felt in his dreams seemed to swell within him every time.

He closed his eyes now against the cacophony and brightness of the carnival and drowned himself in the warmth that surged within him, focusing on the colors blaring against his eyelids. If he focused hard enough he could even swear the the colors started to change shapes.

"Isn't this great Jon?!"

Jon opened his eyes, turning to Kevin who was grinning from ear to ear beside him. Shrugging his shoulders Jon smiled back at him before turning to the vendors, and games, and rides, that spread before him.

"I knew you could convince Miss Carey," Chris said beside him.

Jon scoffed, "Barely, you're lucky I was able to make her laugh before she got too angry or she would have given us bathroom duty- in Ben's hall."

The boys around him shuddered.

"Well that's why you have the silver tongue," Kevin said, slapping him on the back.

"And that's why we love you!" Chris exclaimed as he threw an arm over Jon's shoulder and ruffled his hair.

Jon shoved him off, glaring at him as he combed his fingers through his dark locks, "Careful!"

David rolled his eyes, "It looks the bloody same as always, a mess."

Jon turned around to snark something back at him- _no one_ insulted his hair- when Alex grabbed his elbow and pulled him forward.

"Lets go you pansies or we're gonna lose track of our group and then Miss Carey will actually give us bathroom duty," he muttered.

The other three followed him, catching up to the other dozen children that were part of their group and led by one of the orphanage helpers- Miss Carey had only allowed them to go if they were grouped and had adult supervision.

Walking down the aisles and aisles of games, and food, and rides, they lost themselves in the fun that seemed to permeate the air. They played games, and won prizes, and ran through the crowds, euphoric in the smells, and sounds, and sights of the carnival. They were, this one night, free to enjoy themselves and forget about their loneliness, their kin-less existence. Free to ignore the aches in their chests and the insecurities in their minds.

So immersed was Jon in the sights around him that it seemed like centuries later that he resurfaced, and that's when he stumbled across it.

In a game booth, horseshoe toss apparently, he was captivated by one of the prizes. It was a wooden carousel- on one of the top shelves- of a woodland paradise. Ceramic figures turned 'round and 'round to a jiggling little song, barley heard over the sounds of the carnival- ' _Drip, drip, drop little April shower. Beating a tune as you fall all around'_ \- of bunnies, owls, skunks, birds, and- what most called his attention- deer. A deer, two fawns, and a stag specifically. And, for some reason, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the stag. Majestic and proud, the figure seemed to stare straight at him, peer right into his soul every time it came around.

"Alright Jon?"

Tearing his eyes away from the stag Jon turned to meet Alex's eyes.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. I'm fine," he replied turning back to the carousel.

"Bambi."

"Huh?" he asked glancing at Alex who was now looking at the carousel too.

He tilted his chin towards the prize, "That's from the Disney movie Bambi, the one little Kristy likes. She makes me watch it with her sometimes," he said, "Bambi is one of the fawns I think, or he's the Stag. It can also be his dad, they called him the Prince of the Forest in the movie," he smiled, "It looks pretty neat. I'm sure she would have loved it, but no way would we be able to win it, its one of the harder prizes."

"Yeah," Jon breathed out, staring into the painted eyes of the stag.

Alex punched his shoulder, "C'mon, they're leaving back to the orphanage, we should hurry up before we lose them."

"Yeah. Okay," he murmured following Alex to their group.

Glancing back one last time Jon could almost imagine the stag growing in size, its painted eyes turning a glittering hazel, almost gold, and its fur darkening into a rich brown. He could imagine it bowing its great head and could see, within his mind's eye, tiny hands reaching up to hang onto the antlers- majestic and grand, seeming to stretch into the heavens like a great crown. And from the recess of his mind he remembered words whispered in secret, with glittering eyes and a blinding smile- soft, playful, loving, and full of life.

 _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good._

As he turned his back to the carousel he felt an inexplicable excitement surge through his limbs at those words, seeming to run through his very blood.

* * *

 **July 17, 1991**

The sun was bright, the sky a brilliant blue, and the wind was crisp and clear. Children of all age's played outside in the yard of Mr. Backer's Home for Children, hardly anyone was indoors. Hardly anyone except for Camellia, that is. She would usually be the first one out there on a day like this, playing with all the other children, eager to bask in the sun, but she couldn't be in the presence of others today. So she walked in the quiet halls instead, lost in thought and still gripped in the nightmare of last night. The green light flashing against her closed eyes and the bloodcurdling scream still ringing in her ears.

She stopped in front of one of the grand windows, staring absentmindedly at the buildings across and the busy street below. She closed her eyes for a second and the green flared again- every time she closed her eyes, every time she blinked, she saw the flash of a bright, luminescent, emerald green behind her eyelids. She was getting sick of it- she took a deep breath as her eyes flew open. This time she could even hear the remains of a vicious laugh whisper through her ears.

Clutching the collar of her shirt she stared at her reflection in the window. She looked pale today, paler than usual, almost an ashy grey. Making her cheekbones (which were already high and usually complimented her face, as her friend Sally would tell her) much more prominent and her face, therefore, seemed rather gaunt. Her eyes were wide, the color usually bright and shining was now dull, with shadows lurking in the corners. She even had bags under her eyes, the slight bruising prominent against her fair complexion, even more so today.

Running her hand through her short, dark, locks Camellia leaned her head against the cold window and tried not to close her eyes. Taking deep breaths she stared at the running kids below, getting lost as she watched them play.

"Cami darling?"

Jumping, she twisted around to see Mrs. Backer down the hall, a worried frown on her face.

"What are you doing indoors Camellia?"

Camellia shuffled her feet nervously, ducking her head and shrugging her shoulders.

"Didn't feel like going out," she whispered.

Mrs. Backer's frowned deepened and she moved down the hall to come at a stop in front of Camellia, Leaning down she placed the tips of her fingers under Camellia's chin and tilted it upwards, her frown deepening once she saw the bags under Camellia's eyes and her ashen complexion.

"What's wrong? Are you sick?" she asked as she placed a hand on Camellia's forehead.

Camellia shook her head, "Couldn't sleep," she whispered.

Mrs. Backer's frown turned into a sad, sympathetic, smile, "Nightmare?" she asked gently.

Camellia tried not to pay attention to the laugh in her ears and the scream that followed, tried to not pay attention to what was being screamed, "Yeah," she whispered.

Mrs. stared at her silently for a while before she straightened and gave her a soft smile, "Can I ask you for a favor Cami darling?"

Camellia looked up at her questioningly before nodding her head.

"Good," Mrs. Backer's smile grew wider as she took Camellia's hand and led her back down the hall to the door she came out of, "I need to start the preparations for Supper and I was wondering if you could keep an eye on the little ones."

It wasn't until the door was opened that Camellia realized that they stopped at the nursery, "It's only until Thea and Roy return from their errands," Mrs. explained, "You've already helped out here before so I know I can trust you," she said, smiling down at Camellia.

Mrs. let go of her hand and stepped further into the room, to the far wall where the cribs were held, "The babes are already asleep," she whispered, "So I only need you to keep watch, make sure nothing happens while they rest," she smiled as she turned back to Camellia.

"Can you do that for me?"

Camellia stared across the room, at the light colored walls- yellows and creams- and the quiet children, sleeping in their cribs, and she knew this was the calmest room she could be in at the moment. Quiet enough where she could try to calm herself down and make herself get over the nightmare, or private enough that no one else would be able to come across her depressing state. She looked back towards Mrs. Baker and nodded, stepping into the room.

Mrs. smiled as she walked toward the door, "Thank you darling, they should sleep until Thea and Roy come back but if they don't you know where to find me," she said, giving Camellia one last smile. She ran her hand through Camellia's hair and then she was shutting the door closed behind her.

Camellia stood there, in the middle of the room, for a while before she moved towards the nook in the wall. Where the window stood and throw pillows were placed on the ledge, a nice place to sit and keep an eye on the room while having a view of outside. Settling onto the ledge she pulled her legs u[ and wrapped her arms around them, placing her cheek on her knees she stared out the window, lost in thought as she gazed at the birds that flew across the sky.

It was a couple of minutes before there was any disturbance. She hardly noticed when the door was being pushed open but when the whisper of her name traveled across the room she turned towards the doorway to see one of the younger children peering into the room. Little Felicity smiled at her before coming fully into the room, closing the door softly behind her before she skipped towards Camellia's nook in the wall.

"Cami!" she whispered, "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Camellia smiled at her and ran her hand through Felicity's hair once the younger child came to stand beside her, "Why were you looking for me? Did you need something?" she whispered down at Felicity.

Felicity shrugged as she gave her blinding smile, "I just wanted to spend some time with you. See if you wanted to go play outside or something."

Camellia frowned a little as she glanced up at the sleeping children, "I'm sorry I have to watch the babies," she whispered.

Felicity glanced towards the cribs, following Camellia's motion, before turning back to her, a pout forming on her lips, "For how long?"

Camellia shrugged, "Until Thea and Roy come back I guess."

"Can I wait with you then?"

Camellia peered down at her, "Are you sure you want to?"

The little blond just nodded.

She sighed before giving the little girl a slight smile, "Aright," she stretched out her legs and patted her thighs, "You want to hop on?"

Felicity's smile seemed to grow wider before she scrambled onto the ledge and settled onto Camellia's legs. She wrapped her arms around the younger child as she snuggled herself into Camellia's chest. And as Felicity settled Camellia gave out a small sigh before turning her gaze back out the window.

They sat in silence for a while before Felicity spoke out in a tentative whisper, "Cami?"

"Hmm?" she hummed out an acknowledgement.

"I'm getting sleepy, can you sing me something?"

"You want me to sing to you?" Camellia smiled as she smoothed down Felicity's golden curls.

Felicity nodded eagerly and Camellia gave out a small laugh, "Alright, alright."

Felicity snuggled further into her arms, grabbed a hold of Camellia's shirt and reached up to play with one of her own golden curls, twisting the strands of hair around her finger.

Placing her chin on top of Felicity's head Camellia took a deep breath, looking out of the window at the playing children below.

" _Hush little baby don't say a word_ ," she sang into Felicity's hair.

" _Papa's gonna buy you a mocking bird._

She imagined a great owl for some reason, majestic and beautiful. With dark plumage and yellow, intelligent eyes.

 _And if that mocking bird don't sing,_

 _Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring._

She imagined a bright smile, like a thousand volts, mischievous and charming, with a laugh full of life. She imagined a soft smile, beautiful and loving, with tinkering peals of laughter.

 _And if that diamond ring don't shine,_

 _Hush little baby don't you mind_ …"

She continued in a soft voice, rocking back and forth slowly even when the song ended. She sang other songs, bits and pieces of them as she hummed in between, switching randomly from one song to another. Her voice died down eventually, though, when she remembered another song, from dreams that were much more pleasant than the one she had last night. Dreams of a Fiery Goddess and a Charming King. With siblings, and safety, and security, and _love_. No green lights in sight, no vicious laughs, no screams. She screwed her eyes shut when the nightmare came up into her mind again, the screaming louder than ever.

 _Not my children! Please-_

Felicity tugged on her shirt and Camellia realized that she was still in her arms, looking up at her with a small, sleepy, frown.

"Cami? What wrong?" she asked.

Camellia gave her a trembling smile and smoothed down her curls, "Nothing Fel, just remembered something. I'm sorry."

Felicity frowned up at her for a while before nodding slowly, "Ok, can you sing again?"

"You want another song?"

She nodded slowly, her eyes already droopy with sleep, and Camellia hummed out a laugh, "Okay," she breathed against Felicity's skin as she placed a kiss on her forehead.

Felicity settled down in her arms again and Camellia looked out the window, this time staring at the towering buildings far beyond the orphanage. One of them, with old chiming bells, capturing her attention. Planting another kiss onto Felicity's hair she started humming.

" _Oranges and lemons,_

 _Say the bells of St. Clement's._

She sang softly, slowly. Rocking them gently back and forth.

 _You owe me five farthings,_

 _Say the bells of St. Martin's._

Rubbing a hand in small circles across Felicity's back and occasionally smoothing down her golden hair she stared, unseeing, towards the old church.

 _When will you pay me?_

 _Say the bells of Old Bailey._

She leaned her head against the window. Her forehead touching the cold glass.

 _When I grow rich,_

 _Say the bells of Shoreditch._

Her breath came out in puffs and fogged up the glass.

 _When will that be?_

 _Say the bells of Stepney._

She closed her eyes as green light built up behind her eyelids and a chilling laugh filtered through her head.

 _I do not know,_

 _Says the great bell of Bow._

A tear slipped down her cheek as she squeezed her eyes shut tighter. Her voice faltering as the song came out in whispered breaths.

 _Here comes a candle to light you to bed,_

 _And here comes a chopper to-_ ch-chop _off your...head._ "

She took in a shuddering breath as she choked on the last verse. Screwing her eyes close so tight she could see stars behind her eyelids as the screaming she had been trying to ignore since she woke up resounded through her head.

 _Not my children! Please! Not my children!_

 _No! No! Take me! Kill me instead!_

Biting her bottom lip, she kept herself from sobbing as silent tears slipped down her cheeks. She bit into her lip until she was sure she wouldn't cry out and only then did she open her mouth to let out a shaky breath before opening her eyes. Looking down at the small child in her arms she realized that Felicity had fallen asleep throughout the song. Her mouth open in silent breaths, her finger tangled in her hair, and her hand clutching Camellia's shirt.

Giving out a watery chuckle Camellia pressed her lips to Felicity' golden curls, "Sorry," she murmured into her hair, "it was just a bad dream."

Resuming her swaying she rested her cheek against Felicity's hair and stared up into the clear blue sky.

" _Hush little baby don't say a word_ ,

 _Papa's gonna buy you a mocking bird._

She closed her eyes and let the nightmare rush up again. But this time she also let it wash away, let it pass through her and leave.

 _And if that mocking bird don't sing,_

 _Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring._

And she looked beyond it until she came upon the better dreams. And she brought up the image of brightly colored hair, beautiful like a fiery halo, and brightly colored eyes. Eyes as green and bright as the flashes of light, So similar, exactly the same color, but full of warmth and love, and different, completely and totally different in every way that mattered. She imagined the smile that accompanied those eyes, and her heart filled with warmth.

 _And if that diamond ring don't shine,_

 _Hush little baby don't you mind_ …"

Tears slipped from her closed eyes, but this time she smiled.

* * *

 **A/N** : So it took me longer than I thought to fix this chapter and get it to sound how I wanted it to, sorry. I also want to apologize if Camellia's chapter is sadder than the others, I got the rhyme _Oranges and Lemons_ stuck in my head (I was reading 1984) and I wanted to see if I could incorporate it somewhere and then the whole Camellia section of the chapter got away from me and became sort of depressing, at least compared to her other siblings. I think it helps to show that they aren't always happy, at least, and I think its a realistic approach to the nightmares Harry has in canon. (Although I believe that the Potter siblings are having the green light dream sooner here than Harry did in Canon).

Anyways, you met the last two of the quartet- Jon and Cami- I hope you liked them.

I also wanted to point out that if you recognize any OC names, blame my sister. She was watching _Arrow_ on her laptop, next to me when I was writing this chapter... so yeah.

Nursery Rhymes : _Oranges and Lemons_ **&** _Hush, Little Baby_

Thanks for reading and don't be shy about leaving a review.

~ _Aneriam_


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